


Drinking Alone

by LadyNikita



Series: Curse of Strahd One-Shots [2]
Category: Curse of Strahd - Fandom, Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, I have no idea how to tag this tbh, M/M, honestly idk, kindof, lets keep this spoiler free for my players please!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:20:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28657875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNikita/pseuds/LadyNikita
Summary: It's Winter Solstice and neither Rictavio nor Vasili have any family to spend the night with. The Blue Water Inn is a perfect place to drown your sorrows in a glass of Supreme Red Dragon Crush and... perhaps make some new connections?
Relationships: Rictavio/Vasili von Holtz
Series: Curse of Strahd One-Shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100255
Kudos: 2





	Drinking Alone

**Author's Note:**

> @ my players, please note that this is very vaguely canon. Can't explain why. Don't take it literally

The snow was falling freely and swirling in the wind outside of the Blue Water Inn. People quickly shifted through the cold streets, returning home for the Winter Solstice celebrations. The sky was covered in grey clouds and the night was falling quickly over Vallaki.  
The Inn shone a warm light out of the windows, but it was quiet. The inn wasn’t very popular that night; everyone celebrated with their family, as tradition dictated. Inside, there was only one customer – a dark-skinned elf sat by the counter and sipped his wine in silence, staring at the glass in thought. He was dressed colourfully and there was a notebook and a pen on the counter near him. Yet his face looked somewhat melancholic and his brown eyes were distant, absent. His mind was in a far away land, years in the past, reminiscing on the moments of happiness that now was only a memory.  
Danika was standing by the door to the kitchen, wiping a freshly cleaned glass with a cloth, observing the elf curiously. She often wondered about him. About his past and his homeland. Why he was still here, hanging out in the inn. As if he was waiting for something. Rictavio was a gentleman and an entertaining one at that; his company always proved to be joyful and he was bringing that spark of positivity that was so utterly rare in Barovia. A trait only an outsider could possess. Nevertheless, Danika found she actually knew very little about the man. He told a lot of stories, most of them unbelievable at best, and she rightly suspected most of them weren’t true. He was quite evasive with any actual information about himself which only stirred Danika’s curiosity.  
The door opened suddenly, letting the evening chill into the room. Danika looked in that way and she saw an elegant man in his thirties, his embroidered coat and fancy hat stating his noble standing. He took off the hat and walked over to the counter with a slight smile on his face. He had gentle and warm hazel eyes, his face bore marks of frequent smiling as well as a couple of minor scars, and his beard was freshly and cleanly cut. He bowed his head before Danika.  
“Good evening, dear Danika,” he spoke with a smooth voice. Danika returned the smile.  
“Welcome, Vasili. I’m surprised you’re here and not with your family on this night.”  
Vasili sighed and shrugged, shooting a glance at Rictavio, who, woken up from his reveries by all the noise, returned the glance with unhidden interest.  
“No family here, I’m afraid. My parents died by wolves one night and I’ve been on my own ever since.”  
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” Danika’s forehead rippled in sympathy, but Vasili waved his hand, eager to lighten the mood.  
“Don’t worry about it, old healed wound. Just leaves me to celebrate with strangers,” he smiled at Rictavio. “I see you’re an elf! Don’t see a lot of those in these lands. My name’s Vasili Von Holtz.”  
Rictavio returned the smile.  
“Rictavio,” he nodded at him. “I’m alone tonight, too.”  
“So it seems we don’t have to be so alone after all,” Vasili chuckled and placed two silver coins on the counter. “Red Dragon Crushes, if you could.”  
“Coming right up,” Danika took the money and turned around to pour the wine. Meanwhile Rictavio turned to Vasili.  
“So, who are you, my friend?” He asked. Vasili took off his coat, showing off his puffy white shirt and a velvet vest, and sat back down. There was a longsword at his belt, along with a small knife and a pouch.  
“I’m Vallaki’s accountant. Heard the Baron needed some assistance in the matter since, you know, last accountant screwed something up. Apparently Baron noticed before it was sent to the castle and the poor man was executed within days.”  
“And you’re good with numbers?” Rictavio raised an eyebrow.  
“Always had a knack for it,” Vasili shrugged. “And I like it, too. Barovia is so full of action and surprises that I always appreciate some mundanity.”  
“Aren’t you afraid of making a mistake? I heard the Devil doesn’t like it very much when someone misses but a coin,” Rictavio continued. Danika placed two glasses before them and listened with polite interest.  
“Yes, they he is quite short-tempered, is he not?” Vasili laughed. “To be perfectly honest, I’m not afraid of the Count. What can he do to me? Kill me? So what? I have nothing to lose.”  
“There are worse things than death, my friend,” Rictavio said and under the guise of light-hearted joking, Vasili could feel a sense of seriousness.  
“I’m sure of it, but I don’t think this is how the Count repays for mistakes. I’ve never experienced fear when thinking about him. I don’t know what that says about me though,” Vasili laughed and took a sip.  
“It might be bravery. Or stupidity. Either way, very interesting.”  
“Indeed, my friend.” Vasili grinned teasingly. “There is a lot of very interesting traits to me, you know.”  
It was Rictavio’s turn to laugh. Danika raised her eyebrows and shook her head.  
“I shall leave you to your company then, gentlemen,” she chuckled. “If you need anything just shout and I’ll be over here in a moment.” Then she disappeared behind the kitchen doors.  
Rictavio looked at Vasili out of the corner of his eye. The man was classically handsome and very confident in his mannerisms. You could tell he felt good in his own skin. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his forearms. On one of his wrists, Rictavio saw a bracelet with a pendant of a raven.  
“How come I’ve never seen you here before?” The elf asked. “I’ve been hanging out here for roughly two months now.”  
“Lots to do, my friend.” Vasili shrugged. “I’ve also been working as a bodyguard to Krezk and back. You know, don’t want to get rusty with the sword.” He tapped at the sheathed blade on his belt. “My father taught me how to use it when I was just a boy and that’s a skill I don’t want to forget.”  
Rictavio nodded with understanding and sipped his own wine.  
“What about you? I can’t assume you’re from Barovia?” Vasili asked.  
“No,” Rictavio shook his head. “I’m from beyond the Mists. There’s a place called Faerun. I lived there.”  
“How did you find yourself here then?”  
“I was paired with a small group of adventurers,” Rictavio explained. “We camped by a forest overnight and there was a terrible, thick fog all around us at one moment. I was standing watch and I had no clue what was happening. Thought it was magic; I still think that. It ain’t natural for sure. It enveloped us till I could see nothing, not even my own hand. After a while it dissipated but we found ourselves in a place we did not recognize. Turns out we were now in Barovia.”  
“Magic always seemed suspicious to me,” Vasili commented. “Not very natural, if you ask me. Especially that damned fog. What of the adventurers?”  
“We got attacked by dire wolves in the forest,” Rictavio took a swing of the wine. “They both died but I managed to escape with my carnival wagon and my dear Drusilla, that is my horse.”  
“I’m sorry to hear that, my friend,” Vasili patted his shoulder reassuringly but Rictavio waved his hand.  
“Honestly, they weren’t very smart. I don’t think they would survive in Barovia for long anyway. Better to go by wolves than vampires.”  
“Oh, that for sure,” Vasili chuckled sarcastically. “So, what’s your perspective now?”  
“Getting money with stories,” Rictavio sighed. “I’m enjoying my stay here. Getting to know good people. That’s it for now.”  
“Spreading some good spirits is always needed, I think,” Vasili nodded. “But maybe you’d need a little pick-me-up yourself after all this?”  
“That’s what the wine is for,” Rictavio laughed and raised his eyebrows. “Unless you’re about to suggest something of a different sort?”  
“Let’s say I were to,” Vasili made an innocent face and emptied his glass. “What would you say?”  
“I think I’d say I might consider it,” Rictavio smiled teasingly, “if you bought me another drink.”


End file.
